Work Text:
February 1821
Heywood Manor, Sussex
“If I understand what you are saying, Mr. Colbourne, this means that Heywood Manor will become your property? It will become part of the Heyrick estate?” Thomas Heywood, the eldest of the Heywood sons, wrinkled his brow and glanced at the document before him for a second time.
Alexander sat back in his chair at the head of the dining room table. “Thomas, Heywood Manor would become a temporary remote tenancy of Heyrick Park. The land, house, and livestock would still belong to the Heywood family; however any and all legal decisions regarding sale of land, livestock, personal property, and the house must be approved and conducted through the Heyrick Park estate. The document is written so that with my passing, the ownership of the tenatncy would transfer to the next Heyrick heir. At this time, that is my younger brother Samuel. At which time all debts are paid, the tenancy would dissolve. Ownership would return fully to yourself or your heirs at which juncture decision-making reverts entirely to the Heywood family, and the administrator of Heyrick Park no longer has a say in the financial or legal decisions of this estate.”
Thomas nodded, now understanding his future brother-in-law’s explanation. “But, what of Declan? He is considered head of household at this point.”
“Thomas, that is because you are not yet twenty-one. When you come of age, you become the male head of household for Heywood Manor. For this reason, Declan, being the eldest of all of you aside from Mrs. Heywood, and being male, is responsible for the final decision and signatures. Declan’s status as head of household transfers to me the afternoon of the 24th of March.”
“A remote tenancy...” mused Mrs. Heywood. She looked at Alexander first then assessed the expressions on Declan, Alison, Charlotte, and Thomas’s faces.
“Yes, Mrs. Heywood. Heywood Manor would be treated similarly to the tenant-maintained acreage directly on the Heyrick estate. It is just that it is miles away in north Sussex.” Alexander smiled at Charlotte’s mother, anticipating that she may have additional questions.
He knew that the decision ultimately depended on her approval. Declan and Thomas knew this as well. Having no authority to sign the documents; however, Mrs. Heywood would turn her final decision over to Alison’s husband.
Declan and Alison had recently told her that once Thomas reached his majority, they planned to move to County Clare to be closer to Declan’s family. It had been a difficult decision, and they had weighed what it meant for the younger Heywoods. With Charlotte marrying and moving to Sanditon, it reminded them all the more that they must make a decision that reflected what they wished for their own future. On Thomas’s heels were two other brothers before the next oldest girls. In a year or two, Mrs. Heywood would have enough help with the youngest children, and of course, Charlotte herself was but a day’s carriage ride away should she be needed in an urgent situation.
“Alexander, you have taken great care in devising—oh, that sounds like a negative word, does it not, but I do not mean it in that manner—a path forward for the estate. The debt will not be able to be repaid quickly. We all know this.”
“And, yet, through this device, Mrs. Heywood, you will not be charged interest, and the property shall always be in the family in a manner of speaking.”
Alexander looked down the table to where Charlotte was seated next to Alison. What he could not see from where he was sitting is that the two sisters were holding hands.
Charlotte gave him a quick smile. In his crisp white sleeves and deepest indigo waistcoat with its grey scrollwork, she thought how handsome he looked. Forever striking with his hair that was the darkest brown possible—only a shade lighter than black.
It was not just his physical features that rendered him handsome in her eyes. It was his intelligence, his quiet aptitude. He felt no need to bluster into a room or tell a story in a loud voice. There was no need to promote his thoughts like Tom Parker or always make jolly like Arthur. His wry sense of humor was not as expected as Declan’s.
She considered how his contemplation was different than Sidney’s. Sidney had been reserved, yet once he spoke, his words were firm, well formed, and sure. Alexander periodically stumbled and wavered in a way that made him seem unsure even though he had carefully thought through his decision before speaking. In the end, they were two intelligent men who expressed themselves differently, that was all. And she loved Alexander Colbourne and his quiet, periodically stumbling demeanor to a depth that she still could not fully describe.
Looking at him, she felt a warmth flush through her body. A pride. Pride in him and happiness that she would be his and he hers. She knew deep in her heart that she was a fortunate woman.
Her mother’s voice broke her short reverie.
“Alexander, I would like to discuss the document with Thomas and Declan this evening. I think you will find that we are in favor of your recommendations. In truth, we have few, if any, alternatives to your proposal. All the same, these decisions are not to be made in haste. We shall decide tonight, and any signatures will be inked tomorrow.”
“I understand, Mrs. Heywood. This is a decision that you may never have thought that you would need to make. As you say, it should not be done lightly.”
Declan nodded, his blue eyes calm, serious, and somewhat sad as they often were when he was not jesting. He and Alison exchanged a brief upturning of the corners of their mouths. Alison sighed. Not in a world-weary way but in more of a lifting-of-a-weight way.
Undeterred and unburdened.
Corrections made for a situation that just five years earlier would have been considered unimaginable.
___
18 March 1821
Heywood Manor, Sussex
“Declan!” Charlotte called out from the library.
Not used to having his name shouted by anyone other than Alison, Declan figured it must be an emergency. He jogged down the hallway until he reached the room.
“Yes, is something wrong?”
“There is a book missing.”
Declan looked from the ceiling to the floor. How many hundreds of books were in this room, and Charlotte had noticed one missing.
“How do you know?”
“I just know. I was specifically looking for it.”
“It was a book that you wished to take with us to Sanditon?”
“Yes.”
“Charlotte, will you really have time to read this coming week what with the wedding preparations. And after the wedding, you…well…I do not know that you will have time for reading then either.”
She did not notice his cheeks turning a bright red because she had turned back to scan the shelves, looking beyond the science section this time. It was still nowhere to be found.
“Which book is it, Charlotte? I will help you look.”
“The thin mollusk book.”
He guffawed. “Mollusk book? Honestly, Charlotte, it is March. You are surely not going to be making a study of mollusks right now. The water is a little cold.”
Charlotte plopped into one of the wingback chairs and let out a groan. “It is not the book itself, Declan, it is what is in the book. I had an envelope hidden…well, not exactly hidden…I just did not want the contents lost, and what better holding place then a Mollusca book.”
He placed his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “This is true. Then again, if I was having difficulty sleeping that might be the first volume I would extract from the shelf.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes, but her face fell into worry.
“Charlotte, may I ask what was in the book?”
Tears pricked at her eyes. “You will think me silly.”
“I have never thought of you as silly. Surely, you know that, Charlotte. Do not feel that you need to tell me, but if you wish, I will keep it to myself.”
A tear spilled over. “Declan, did I ever thank you for bringing Alexander here? I mean inviting him here or reaffirming that he was welcome and for telling him that I was in the church on the day of Papa’s burial?”
He pulled at the hem of his waistcoat. “I do not remember, Charlotte, and it does not matter whether you did or not. I like Alexander, and if I played some small role in making the path smoother, then consider that thanks enough.”
“I saved three cornflowers in an envelope. Alison saw them this summer. They were from a picnic at Heyrick Park. Leonora had picked them. It was a day that was different than the others at Heyrick. It was one of the first times that Mr. Colbourne…I mean Alexander… joined the girls. He spent more time with them that day that he had any other day up until that point.”
Declan moved to sit in the other velvet-backed chair. “Charlotte, he did that because of you. For the girls, too, I am sure, yet he would not have done that without your influence. You truly brought change to Heyrick Park. Quite frankly, you saved them from the misery they were drowning in.”
“Declan, I do not think I am capable of that amount of change.”
“Please do not underestimate what you have done. Alexander Colbourne finally came to realize how integral you were—you are—to life at Heyrick. You saved him, and he knows it. For all you are, he will love you to his dying day. That love is rare, Charlotte. I consider myself fortunate to have found such love with Alison. I believe your love for Alexander is as rich. I think you will be very happy. I know that you love Sanditon and feel at home there. It is your home.”
“Hmm.” Charlotte nodded and smiled at him.
“As for the book, I do not know where it is. You know we have all been in and out of this library so many times this winter. I am not sure that any one of us would be interested in studying mollusks.”
“Perhaps it will surface. If the flowers disappear, they do. I would prefer to have them safely kept, yet, I will always have the memory of that day forever stored.”
___
18 March 1821
London
“Mr. Colbourne?”
“Yes?” Samuel looked up to see one of the young clerks standing at his office door.
“Mr. Lockhart is here to see you, sir.”
Samuel’s quill stopped mid letter. He grimaced. The thought of even standing up to greet the man pained him, but etiquette would require it.
“Very well, Forster. Send him in, please.”
“Of course, Mr. Colbourne.”
Samuel looked down at the notes he had been taking and sighed. Closing the lid on the inkwell, he stood up and reached for his jacket.
“Mr. Lockhart, sir.” Forster gave Charles Lockhart a sideways glance, an air of confusion marked on his face.
Samuel looked up and nearly fell back into his chair again. What the devil.
Charles Lockhart stood before him in his usual formal attire touched with the man’s eccentric touches—a waistcoat that was slightly more flamboyant than typical day wear for a man of business—and he held no hat in his hand.
And considering he had only one hand of good use, perhaps it was just a well.
Lockhart’s hair was its typical pile of unkempt curls but that was the only thing typical about his head. His usual clear, beguiling eyes were dull, bruises and a cut graced his right eye, he was slightly hunched over, and his arm was in a black sling. The fingers peeking from the wrapping were splinted and taped.
Samuel noted that it was his right hand that was slinged, and Charles Lockhart was a man who needed his right hand to make a living.
As he opened his mouth to speak, Samuel noticed that the artist’s lip was split and swollen.
Samuel cleared his throat and tried to quickly reset his face to an expression of disinterest.
“Mr. Lockhart, would you care to sit? Would you like a tumbler of water or cup of tea?”
Lockhart pulled the corner of his mouth as if trying to form a sneer or voice a scoff but finding it almost physically impossible.
“How feeling of you, Mr. Colbourne. I doubt that you wish me to spend more than five minutes in your company, so I shall keep this brief.”
“Not at all. There is no need to hurry legal matters. If I may say, it looks like you are in a great amount of pain, and so you should sit if you are ill.”
“Ill? Ill? How decorous of you. I think what you mean to say is ‘you look like you have been beaten to a pulp.’ If your shambling words are any indication as to how well you speak in court, then perhaps it is just as well that I am no longer in need of your services. I would not be able to sleep at night knowing that I had aligned myself to a sheep among the wolves, for knowing my cousin, Miss Lambe, I am sure that she and her preposterous friends, as I consider most Sanditon residents to be, will have hired the best barrister money can buy. Lambe, sheep, the jokes are many, but this is no laughing matter.”
“Preposterous friends? I see.” Samuel exhaled through his nose and sat back further in his chair. Even if Lockhart did not want to sit, there was no reason why Samuel himself needed to be uncomfortable.
“You said that you are no longer in need of my service? Have you found legal counsel elsewhere?”
“Whether I have or not, I consider that none of your business.”
“Mr. Lockhart, as long as you have paid the fees for the hours I have spent to date on your claim, I have no interest in who represents you. I am merely asking out of form. I will ask the reason for this change of mind. Or is it a change of heart? By the looks of you, someone has found fault with you recently.”
“Change of mind, Mr. Colbourne? I would say that there is nothing like imminent death to focus the mind.”
“Yet, you are very much alive, Mr. Lockhart.”
Lockhart did manage a scoff and eye roll, then winced as even that subtle moment apparently caused him pain.
Samuel mentally noted that this was going nowhere, and the man was in no physical condition to continue the conversation.
“Mr. Lockhart, if you are no longer in need of my representation, then I will consider this interview at an end.”
Lockhart hesitated.
Samuel stood and crossed his arms.
“Was there something else, Mr. Lockhart?”
“I have found…I have decided to no longer pursue the claim, that is all.”
“It is a goodly sum of money, Mr. Lockhart, are you sure? From the looks of your arm and fingers, it seems it may be some time before you will be able to pursue your profession again.”
Lockhart’s eyes flicked to the window which looked out onto a courtyard.
“Oh, and Mr. Lockhart, I would have won the case. Do not underestimate my talents in a court of law.” Samuel placed his hands on his desk and narrowed his eyes.
“Cocksure of you.”
“Have you ever been to Antigua, Mr. Lockhart? I know your parents were living there at the time of their marriage, yet have you yourself been? As an adult, I should say.”
Lockhart’s mouth open and closed, then opened again.
“I have. More than one time. My grandfather and father made their wealth through the shipping company the family owned in Antigua. I live with that each and every day. I recognize that a trade that I abhor is what has placed a roof over my head, and as much as I told wife otherwise at one point, she reminded me that my status and education stem from that very trade. And so, I have vowed that I will pay that wealth and privilege back in one way or another each and every day. I would recommend before you consider pursuing your case with another barrister, that you consider the true origin of the renumeration you seek to gain.”
“Ah, but that is where you and I differ, Mr. Colbourne. I do not have your integrity. I am afraid that my principles are based on a different outlook entirely. And I will say that it is easy for the privileged and the wealthy to have such high standards. Integrity is easy to come by when one does not have to worry about the roof over one’s head. Integrity is a luxury that some of us simply cannot afford.”
“Very well, Mr. Lockhart. As you wish to believe. I have one last word, and that is that your true enemy is not your cousin, rather it is the person or persons who did this to you. One does not dance with the devil for free.”
Lockhart rolled his eyes. “How trite. You are the pious one, aren’t you.”
“Hardly, Mr. Lockhart. You have been a cat’s paw, haven’t you? Whiskers at the least. Who is the cat’s body?”
Lockhart sniffed and nodded. “I will bid you good day, Mr. Colbourne.”
So, I have hit close to the mark if not the bullseye, Samuel thought.
“Good day, Mr. Lockhart. The party who put the bit in your mouth is Miss Lambe’s true enemy, not you-- a cousin who is too weak to fight his own battles. I cannot believe I am saying this, but it would have been so much easier to defend you had you at least had the backbone to act on your own.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Colbourne.”
“Not at all. Now if you will excuse me, I have other cases that are occupying my attention. Mr. Forster will show you out.”
Lockhart smirked one last time and turned on his heel. Forster intercepted him at the door, escorting him the remainder of the way.
Samuel sat back down and slumped in his chair. He let out a long, slow breath.
Whatever the man had embroiled himself in, Samuel was glad to be well out of it.
Who was the other party? The person or persons who had beaten or contracted another to beat Lockhart to a near pulp? Miss Lambe needed to be aware that someone was still out there…friend or foe…who could still challenge her inheritance. No matter who it was, though, at least he would not have to represent Charles Lockhart.
___
Trafalgar House
Sanditon, Sussex
23 March 1821
“Charlotte, Mr. Quinn from Heyrick Park is here to see you.” Tom popped his head around the corner of the dining room entryway.
Charlotte, Mary, and Mrs. Heywood looked up from the breakfast table. Charlotte was in mid chew. She swallowed her toast and marmalade, took a sip of tea, and wiped her mouth. “Quinn? I do hope nothing is amiss.”
Following Tom into the hall, Charlotte saw Quinn standing just inside the door holding a pale rectangular box wrapped with wide dark blue grosgrain ribbon.
“Good Morning, Quinn, you are out and about early.”
“Miss Heywood, a good morning to you. Mr. Colbourne and Mrs. Wheatley have several errands for me to run before tomorrow, and I was asked to deliver this box to you. It is the first of my stops of several while I am in town. Also, Mrs. Wheatley asked me to mention if there is anything that you should need while I am out, to be sure to let you know that I am happy to deliver any parcels before I return to Heyrick.”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “There you are, Charlotte. Already mistress of the house. No denying that Mr. Quinn is at your beck and call, my dear.”
“Not quite mistress yet, Tom. Another day.” Charlotte smiled in embarrassment. “Thank you, Quinn.
“’Tis no bother at all, Miss Heywood. And Mr. Parker is right, we do already consider you mistress of Heyrick Park, if you do not mind me saying so. No matter your last name, I think we all know who has been mistress of that house for quite some time.”
Or at least mistress of Mr. Colbourne’s heart for quite some time.
Quinn chuckled. “And if you throw me out on my ear for impertinence, so be it. At least I will be leaving on an honest statement.”
Charlotte laughed at the groom’s forthrightness. “If anyone sends you away, it will not be me, Quinn, rest assured. Thank you again. My best to Hadrian and Antonius.”
“Aye, Miss Heywood, those two gents eagerly await the part they’ll play tomorrow to and from the church.” Quinn gave them a brief bow. “Mr. Parker. Good morning to you both.”
After Quinn departed, Charlotte and Tom returned to the breakfast table.
“Oh, my, Charlotte, that is a lovely bow. Are you to open the box now? What does the note say?” Her mother returned her cup to its saucer and lightly touched the ribbon.
Charlotte slid the thin note out from under the blue ribbon. She smiled. ‘Charlotte’ was written across the front in a splotched left-hand slant. Breaking the wax ‘C’ seal with its familiar laurel wreath design, she unfolded the paper.
My dearest Charlotte,
I have asked Quinn to deliver this box safely into your hands. I wish to share with you a gift in honor of the love that you have brought into my life. The enclosed have significant meaning for me, and I believe that at least a portion of this box’s contents has great meaning for you as well. The first symbolizes the day that I fell in love with you. The second represents all the days that I will be in love with you. Which is all the days that we will have together and beyond. My love for you is unending, Charlotte. It will continue long after I have left this earth.
I would be honored if you choose to wear the enclosed on the day that we become husband and wife.
Yours forever,
Xander
A tear spilled onto the paper. The water smearing the word earth.
“Charlotte?” Mary asked.
“Oh, Mary…” Charlotte’s voice faltered, and another tear trickled down her cheek.
“It’s not bad news is it, Charlotte? Such a carefully delivered box. It cannot be.” Tom stood up from his chair.
Charlotte closed her eyes and laughed, shaking her head vigorously. “It is the opposite of bad news. The very opposite! Shall we open the box?”
Mary and her mother stood up as well. The three of them gathered at the corner of the table as Charlotte carefully untied the ribbon and opened the lid. Within the box was thin tissue-like paper, which she pulled back to reveal a slim, hinged mahogany box with the marking ‘M. Triveton, London’ on the lid.
Charlotte opened the wooden box to find another slim box, this one covered in velvet. Her hands trembling slightly, she opened the velvet interior box.
Mary gasped.
Mrs. Heywood put her hand over her mouth.
Charlotte stared.
Tom said, “My dear. I am sure I have never seen anything like it.”
Inside was a silver necklace set with three brilliant sapphires—the center stone of the embellishment larger than the two poised on either side. Silver oak leaves trailed along the silver cords leading to the back clasp.
“Oh, Charlotte! Tom is right. I have never seen anything so beautiful. Will you wear it for your wedding? I am just thinking of how well the necklace will go with your gown. Oh, my dear.” Mary placed her hand over her heart and beamed at Tom.
“Charlotte, there is another smaller box still inside. That little wooden one.” Mrs. Heywood pointed out.
Charlotte wiped her eyes, inhaled, and reached for the smaller box which had a sliding lid. She gently slid the top to the side, and it was her turn to gasp.
Mary narrowed her eyes, and Tom looked at Charlotte as if he was not understanding the significance of the smaller box.
Charlotte gulped, and tears began to flow. That’s where they had been this entire time! Alexander Colbourne, you rapscallion.
Inside were the three cornflowers that Leo had picked, and that Alexander had handed to her the day of the picnic. The day that he had fallen in love with her.
When had she fallen in love with him?
The garden party? The moment she saw the level of concern in his brown eyes as he walked up the assembly room stairs at the ball? Before then?
She could not name the moment.
“I love him so much.” Charlotte’s breath shuddered as she touched the cornflowers. She looked up to see her mother’s face glowing. Mary handed her a kerchief and embraced her, tears now falling down her own face.
Charlotte turned her head and saw Sidney staring back at her from the portrait in the hall. She turned back to Tom and Mary, her sobs now uncontrollable.
“Tom and Mary, none of this would have been possible if not for you. Mama, if you and Papa had not let me travel to Sanditon.”
“Us, Charlotte? What did we do?” Tom looked befuddled.
Charlotte laughed through her tears. “You sprained your ankle, Tom, and lost a carriage wheel. That is what you did.”
Tom still looked confused but wiped his eyes. “If you say so, Charlotte. If that is what we did.”
“That is what you did. I love you both. You are the reason all of this happened.”
Mary shook her head, another tear splashed off of her cheek. “Charlotte, you are the reason this all happened. Our lives would not have been the same without you. We love you and always will. Now shall we see how this necklace will look with your dress before out toast gets soggy from all of our tears?”
Charlotte nodded and laughed. “Yes, Mary, thank you. I would like that very much.”
___
24 March 1821
Heyrick Park, Sussex
Alexander stared at the mirror on the side bureau of his bedroom and placed his hands on either side of the porcelain basin beneath the mirror. Taking a towel in his left hand, he grabbed the handle of the matching jug and poured the hot water into the basin. Quinn had sharpened the razor. It had seen minimal use over the past decade.
“Do you ever shave?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do you? If you ever walk into a church for my wedding, you had better be shaven and your hair combed. It would show an ounce of respect for yourself and for me.”
“My father is out there in the ground, Mr. Colbourne. On this first day of October 1820, and out of respect for him, out of respect for me, please tell me why you are here!”
Positioning the mirror to better take advantage of the morning light, he placed the jug down and glanced at the soap.
He had eventually told her why he was there that day in the church in Willingden.
It was the first time he told her that he loved her. It would not be the last.
And as she wished, he would shave because later that morning he would be walking into a church for her wedding.
___
Alexander tried not to feel self-conscious as he walked into the foyer as all of the family and staff were gathered there. Augusta and Leonora were dressed in two different shades of blue similar to his own waistcoat and jacket. Augusta seemed so grown up and elegant with her hair curled and braided, a thin blue ribbon laced among the braids. Leo’s hair was growing longer and was partially braided and tied with a blue ribbon. She excitedly ran up to him and grabbed his hand.
“Father, you look so handsome!”
“Thank you, Leo! Your dress is very pretty. Both you and Augusta look lovely.”
Augusta fidgeted and blushed. Leo excitedly bounced in her new shoes.
Samuel and Juliana, Cecilia, John, and Edgar were there along with Mrs. Wheatley, Mrs. Gress, Margaret, and Sally, all dressed in their finest dresses. Quinn had on his livery. Alexander had not seen Mrs. Wheatley without her white cap on in so long, that it took him aback at first.
Mrs. Wheatley stepped forward and brushed at the shoulder of his jacket. “This is a very fine coat, Xander. Your brother has the ring.” She turned around to look at Samuel. “You do have the ring, Samuel?”
“I do.” Samuel pulled the box from his pocket to prove that he was prepared. Juliana and Mrs. Gress shared a sideways glance, and Sally tittered.
Luna padded into the hall and barked.
“I think that is our cue,” Alexander said. “If we are all ready, I am ready as well. Shall we depart for the church? It was very kind of Mr. Acton to loan the extra carriages and horses for today. I am glad to have renewed our acquaintance with the Acton family.”
“They are friends as well as neighbors, Xander, and you know so. Everyone.” Samuel motioned for all to move outside where the carriages were waiting, the green carriage reserved for Alexander and the girls.
He waited for the others to proceed. Mrs. Wheatley touched Alexander on the sleeve. “You will not regret this.” She smiled before turning to join Mrs. Gress and Margaret.
“Well, brother, are you feeling all right? Are you nervous?” Samuel placed his hands on his hips and assessed Alexander’s expression.
“Nervous? I am nervous about having to stand in front of everyone. You know I do not like others looking at me. I would rather stay here.” Alexander looked around at the foyer, his eyes resting on the painting of Heyrick Park were the portrait of Lucy used to be.
“Xander, if you wish to marry Charlotte, that requires you to physically travel to the church and stand next to the altar in front of Reverend Hankins. It also requires that you subject your bride and the rest of us to one of the man’s ridiculous sermons. The things that we do for you.” Samuel shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.
Alexander gulped. “Is it too late to convert, Sam?”
Samuel laughed. “Mr. Acton and Mrs. Gress would tell us that yes, it is. Perhaps later if you wish, but not today.”
Alexander smiled. Samuel clapped him on the shoulder.
“She is a wonderful woman, Alexander. She loves you, Leo, and Augusta. I am sure of it, and I think I have never seen you happier. This is well earned. A love unlike any other. As I said at Christmas, we are two very fortunate men.”
“We are.” Alexander looked around the foyer and the hall again. His voice shook slightly as he touched Samuel’s arm. “We are.”
Samuel embraced his brother, and patted his back. “Your lovely bride is waiting, Xander. We don’t want to be late!”
Alexander let his breath out again and stepped in front of Samuel to walk out into the sunlight.
___
And a lovely bride she was.
Alexander turned to see Charlotte walk down the aisle on Declan’s arm. Her dress flowed with its overlay of the lightest fabric of blue embroidered with flowers and vines. He was shocked how well the dress’s design matched the vines and leaves of her necklace and the ring that Samuel held. There was no way that Charlotte would have known.
Were they of such an accord? So harmonious in thought and feeling?
He knew the answer. He would not be standing here before her, their families, and friends if they were not so. The very fact set his heart at peace.
The sapphire necklace was gorgeous against her delicate neck. Her eyes sought him out, her smile and dimples adorable to him. The cleft in her chin as strong as ever.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander noticed Juliana poking Samuel in the ribs and gesturing slightly with her gloved hand toward the necklace.
He thought he overheard Lady Denham murmur a little too loudly over the sound of Miss Hankins’s playing to Lady Babington, “I did offer my carriage, of course, however, Mr. Acton, he would think because he lives closer that it was his place. Sapphires, my. Already the third wealthiest woman in Sanditon, and she hasn’t even finished walking down the aisle.”
“Aunt…” he heard Esther warn.
The Heywoods filled several pews. Mrs. Heywood’s face reflected the love she had for her daughter, and Charlotte took a moment to turn and smile to her mother before continuing her walk with Declan.
Finally reaching Alexander, she tilted her head to search his eyes. He gazed at her own deep brown eyes, soft and welcoming.
Quite simply, she was his home.
One last time he looked back at Samuel, who nodded, his grey eyes assuring.
Samuel winked.
Alexander turned back to Charlotte and smiled.
They both turned toward Reverend Hankins, who nodded and began the ceremony.
___
The Sanditon Assembly Rooms bustled with guests from Willingden, Sanditon, Sanditon House, Norwood, Dunforth Hall, Kempton, and the Babington estate. Cheers rang out and toasts were raised from the round tables as food was served and wine flowed.
Samuel, Georgiana, and Tom stood to say a few words. Arthur laughed because he had to offer a kerchief to Tom who barely made it through his speech without blubbing when he spoke of how he met the Heywoods and how Charlotte became an honorary Parker her first summer in Sanditon.
Georgiana spoke of how she would forever be indebted to Charlotte as a friend. “Charlotte has always supported me in even my darkest days. This is not a sad occasion, so we shall not linger on this thought too long; however, I will say to you that Charlotte was my first true friend in Sanditon and saved me from feeling alone. I understand that I am not the only one who felt this way when it comes to Charlotte’s love and kindness.” She quickly looked at Alexander, Augusta, and Leonora and looked around the room again. “Charlotte, we raise a glass to you, Alexander and your beautiful family. Thank you for your presence in our lives. May today be just the beginning of a lifetime together filled with love, laughter, and the best of friendship!”
“Hear, hear!” called out Arthur as he raised his champagne glass even higher.
Charlotte clasped Alexander’s hand tighter, and he raised their joined hands so that he could kiss hers. She let out a contented sigh.
___
“Miss Markham?”
Augusta turned from where she, Edgar, and Cecilia were talking in the entrance hall of the assembly rooms during one of the breaks in the dancing to find Tobias Hargate standing to her left.
“Mr. Hargate.” She curtseyed to his bow. “You remember my cousin, Lord Montrose, and I do not recall if you met Lord Montrose’s sister at my Uncle Samuel and Aunt Juliana’s wedding. May I present Mrs. John Dunforth.”
“Lord Montrose, Mrs. Dunforth, it is a pleasure to see you once more. I hope you are enjoying the celebration.”
“Very much so.”
“Mr. Hargate, once again as with my mother and Mr. Colbourne’s wedding, you and the other musicians are bringing us much cheer. We are eagerly awaiting the next reel.”
“Yes, we plan to play a reel in the next set. Actually, it is the first tune, and a cello is not needed for that particular dance.” Tobias’s green eyes focused on Augusta. “Miss Markham, I was wondering, that is, I would like to ask that if you are not engaged for the next dance, if I might have the honor?”
“I…” Augusta nervously pulled at the folds of her skirt.
Edgar raised his eyebrows, and Cecilia kept her expression benign, awaiting Augusta’s response.
Augusta looked at them and noticed Samuel standing next to the entrance of the ballroom at their little group. Her mind flashed to Lady Sutton’s ball and how she had stood just outside the anteroom trying to claim his attention.
As if sensing that she once again needed him, he looked over, and seeing the grouping, walked toward them.
“Mr. Hargate, thank you again for bringing such lively, memorable music to a Colbourne family celebration.”
“Thank you, Mr. Colbourne. In fact, as I am not needed for the next tune, I have asked Miss Markham if she would care to dance.”
The corners of Samuel’s lips turned upward. “Augusta?”
“I thank you, Mr. Hargate, and I very much would like to dance with you.”
“Then, shall we?” Tobias held out his arm for her, and Augusta gently laid her hand on his arm and walked with him to the dance floor.
Samuel paused until they were a few steps away, then turned to Edgar and Cecilia. “About time. Bet you a shilling that is the next family wedding we attend.”
Cecilia laughed. "No need to bet on that, Samuel. I think we know that is one pairing that's a foregone conclusion."
___
24 March 1821
Evening, Heyrick Park, Sussex
On the pillow was a small, rectangular package wrapped in pale blue paper with a sapphire-colored ribbon. “Charlotte” was written in Alexander’s handwriting on the bottom right corner of the package.
She walked to the bed and reached for the present. Hearing his footsteps behind her, Charlotte turned toward Alexander and smiled nervously. “Shall I open this now?”
“Yes, of course.” His smile was just as nervous as hers, but his eyes were soft. It was the look of a man who seemed to be hoping that she would like his gift but was unsure.
Charlotte noticed that he had removed his cravat and dark blue coat. He was dressed as she had so often seen him around Heyrick Park when he knew there would be no callers—in his finely stitched white shirt, steel blue waistcoat, and trousers. The only societal formality left in his wardrobe was the signet and key hanging on his trouser fob ribbon.
She carefully untied the bow and turned the package to loosen the wrapping. Charlotte almost gasped when the paper fell away. It was the Mollusca book from her father’s library. The one that had held the hidden cornflowers.
An envelope was tucked between the pages of the keeled ramshorn illustration and description. The three cornflowers were in her hair, so she could not imagine what could be in the envelope. Placing the book down on the bed, she looked up at Alexander, and he nodded for her to open the envelope. Inside she found three sheets of paper. It looked to be a letter in his handwriting dated 10 October.
“Charlotte, this is the very first letter that I ever wrote to you. I never posted it for that would have been inappropriate at the time. The words are true to my thoughts, and I wanted you to have the opportunity to read what I wanted to say to you that day…what I still want to say to you today and every day.”
Charlotte read the first two lines then stopped. She reached for his hand.
“Xander, here, sit with me.”
Charlotte led him to the bedroom window seat, where they sat facing each other. Alexander leaned against the window frame and studied her, taking in her intricately styled brunette hair with its braids and twists. The three cornflowers he had given to her on the day of the summer picnic were tucked in the scroll of braids at the nape of her neck.
Her gown was the palest gossamer blue with a sheer overlay embroidered with blooms, petals, and trailing vines. Her neck was adorned with the simple, yet elegant sapphire necklace Juliana had designed. Finally, he glanced at the ring he had selected from Mr. Triveton over half a year ago. The blue stone, set amidst the silver leaves that entwined the band, was a perfect companion to her small fingers and the gown she had selected.
She took his breath away, and he was still amazed that she had forgiven him and had accepted his proposal. Quite simply, he was amazed that she had chosen him and was now Mrs. Alexander Colbourne.
Perhaps aware that he was looking at her so intently, Charlotte handed the sheafs of paper to him. “Would you read your letter to me? Please?”
“I…”
“Xander, it would mean so much to hear your voice say these words that you so carefully wrote.”
She reached out and lightly rubbed her thumb across the top of his right hand.
He cleared his throat and began reading.
Charlotte crossed her ankles and watched his face as he read. She did periodically look out the window to take in the rolling rear lawn and the tall trees, in part so that he would not feel nervous under her gaze. She listened to the words that he had drafted shortly after her father’s death. When Alexander reached the part about grief, she squeezed his hand, communicating her appreciation and understanding of his thoughts without interrupting his reading.
When he finished the last line, he slowly looked up at her. She leaned forward and gently touched his cheek. “Your letter is beautiful. I will treasure these words forever.”
Charlotte kissed him. A light, feathery kiss. He returned her kiss, but with more strength, finding that he could not contain his feelings or emotions any longer. Deepening his kiss, he pulled her toward him.
“Oh, Charlotte…” he closed his eyes, touching his forehead to hers.
Charlotte smoothed back the wayward curl at his forehead and moved her head so that his lips would find hers again. This time it was she who let her emotions flow freely through her contact, parting her lips to him.
Alexander moved his hands to her waist, then his palms found their way to her hips, and he trailed the line of her outer thighs with his fingers.
He kissed her delicate skin just above her bodice and allowed his mouth to trace a trail upward toward the hollow of her neck.
“Xander, I…oh, I am not sure what to say. I want to tell you so many things.”
“Charlotte, I am not sure that words are even necessary. There is so much that I love about you—I do not even know how to form the words at this moment. So, it seems we are in the same predicament. May I show you…will you allow me to show my love for you in ways other than words this evening?”
“Yes, of course, Xander.”
Alexander kissed her lips again, finding this time that she opened her lips in unison with him. He touched the tip of his tongue to hers, exploring gently. Charlotte sighed and reached for his shoulders.
Standing, but still not taking his lips from hers, he reached his left arm around her waist and with his right arm, lifted her thighs, smoothly picking her up from the window seat.
Charlotte opened her eyes to see that his own brown eyes seemed to have turned a shade darker with desire. She pressed her lips to his once again, running her free hand along his cheek as he carried her to the bed.
Alexander’s letter from Unwritten:
Heyrick Park, Sussex
10 October 1820
My Dearest Charlotte,
Quinn and I returned to Heyrick Park a few days ago. While being home comes with its familiar comfort, I am already finding it unbearable to be parted from you. I find solace in my morning rides to the beach, knowing how much you love the sea, the breeze, and the brilliant color of the water.
Several late flowers are in bloom, and some of the leaves are beginning to turn. As you know, the yellow leaves appear first, followed soon after by the brilliant oranges and reds. If you will allow, I would dearly like for you to join me at Heyrick for a long walk when you are here later this month so that we can enjoy nature’s colors together on a turn about the grounds. I know that you have only visited Sanditon in the summer and have not yet had a chance to see what it offers during the quieter seasons.
Charlotte, I know that grief for the loss of a loved parent can be all consuming at first. The pain, guilt, anger, and overwhelming sadness lasts for weeks, sometimes months. Eventually the pain ebbs to a dull ache to acceptance. You will find that a word, a piece of music, or a sight will cause a memory to surface. Having experienced the loss of my mother at a young age, I learned to take consolation in knowing that she is watching over me. I hope that you will also find such consolation.
I almost find that I am at a loss for words. You know that I am a quiet man and do not always find it easy to convey the depth of my feelings. Please understand that even if I do not write to you in the most flowery of language or talk at length that does not mean that I do not love you. I love you with an ache and longing that cannot be expressed in words. It is a feeling of the soul that has been with me for some time. Perhaps I did not recognize it at first; however, my love for you was always there and ever growing. In truth, it is a love that has grown since that first moment you walked into my study.
I believe I truly fell in love with you the day of the picnic. I did not want you to leave, Charlotte. I wanted you to stay at Heyrick that day until the afternoon became night, and night turned to morning. I wanted to know that you were there, present, belonging to us, and the three of us belonging to you. I longed for that feeling to last. I now wish that feeling to last all my days.
I look forward to a time when I will once again be able to take you into my arms. Know that my love for you is unfading. I wish never to be without you. My heart is yours and forever will be.
Love always,
Alexander
___
Epilogue
Early March 1831
London
Marcus Triveton carefully placed two aquamarine rings in the window his London shop, trying not to disturb the faux puffy clouds hanging by nearly invisible strings from the top of the window. He recentered the lion and lamb statuettes that rounded out the month’s featured rings, necklace, and bracelet.
He had been so focused on his task that he almost did not notice the man and woman standing just beyond the glass. They both smiled, and the well-dressed gentlemen pointed with his glove at a small sign at the bottom of the bracelet’s podium. The sign read ‘Designed by J. Markham.’
Once Mr. Triveton recognized the pair, his face broke into a smile, and he gestured toward the shop’s door, encouraging them to enter. It was as if no time had passed since he had last seen them, yet the fashions had changed recently, and they were both up to date.
Her brunette hair was piled on her head with a few ringlets framing her face under her large bonnet as opposed to hanging down like a girl’s. The sleeves of her deep green coat were exaggerated in size befitting the current style. His waist was nipped with a longer waistcoat and jacket, his trousers long, skimming the tops of his shoes. The gentleman’s top hat was still grey, albeit a darker shade.
The shop bell rang. They were laughing at some joke between them as they entered.
“Mr. Triveton, the display is marvelous. We were admiring the puffy clouds. Quite imaginative!”
“Mr. Colbourne! Mrs. Hargate! A pleasure to see you out and about and thank you. The clouds were Mrs. Colbourne’s idea. I was telling her about the March display, and she thought it would make for a pleasing effect.”
“My aunt has always had a keen eye for design, Mr. Triveton, as you know. And it extends far beyond jewelry.” Augusta stepped forward on the creaking wooden floorboards to greet him.
“Yes, Mrs. Colbourne already has ideas for the late spring and summer season. And I have met your nephew, Mr. Colbourne, for she brought young William with her the last time she visited. I am afraid jewelers are not very interesting for an eight-year-old boy; however, his mother promised him a stop by the toy shop and kite maker.”
“Yes, Augusta and I also plan to peek in the toy shop before we depart for home.” Alexander removed his hat and brushed back his hair. Each day he felt like he saw another strand of grey but was doing his best to ignore the march of time.
“And how is your own growing family?”
“They are all well. We were in London for Leonora’s first season. My next oldest daughter is nine, and as you know, four other daughters and two sons. Our youngest is an infant still. Mrs. Colbourne sends her regards.”
“And is there anything that I might help you with today, Mr. Colbourne?”
“Mrs. Colbourne and I celebrate our tenth anniversary this year, and I would like to find a pair of earrings for her. I am not sure how it happened to be, but I never did purchase a pair of sapphire earrings to accompany her wedding ring. I would like to make amends for that oversight.” Alexander’s eye was drawn to the sapphire case along the far wall.
Augusta began to peruse the other cases, lightly tapping her gloves against the wood that edged the glass.
Mr. Triveton looked down to hide the twitch of his lips. He knew what was coming. Like clockwork it was, with these two.
“Uncle…”
“Yes?”
“I do like this topaz and pearl set. What do you think of these earrings? Oh, I will let you examine the sapphires first. I just think that this is a lovely setting.”
“Mr. Triveton, why do I have a feeling that I am leaving today with two pairs of earrings. One sapphire and one topaz?”
“Because, Mr. Colbourne, it is tradition. A tradition that I hope will never change.”
“You and I both hope that it will never change!” Augusta winked as she joined her uncle as he bent over the case to closer examine the earrings.
“Now, what do you think of these, Augusta?”
“They are beautiful. Aunt Charlotte will prefer the round gem over the marquis cut. I think it will suit the shape of her face well.”
“That is one decision made, Mr. Triveton. Now, the topazes.”
“Uncle, this is the pair.”
“Let me see.”
“Mr. Colbourne, have ten years passed? Truly? I suppose it has been ten and a half. I recall that you bought the ring several months before the marriage.”
“Yes, more than that. I purchased the ring in September 1820, and we married in March 1821. Mrs. Colbourne’s father passed that October between, and so, that affected our plans.” Alexander was not going to mention that Ralph Starling also affected their plans.
He had not thought of Starling or the argument in the Willingden church, or the over-crowded tea at Heywood Manor, and the drink with Tom and Arthur Parker in a long time. The images flashed through his mind unbidden. The dropped book and the cornflowers. His unawareness. Her stubbornness. The library, the pianoforte, the estate tenancy. The dreams, some of which blissfully had come true in one form or another. The heat rose on his neck just thinking about the Heyrick study and the number of times they had locked that door over the past ten years when an argument or conversation became more than just an exchange of words.
He thought of Mr. Heywood and Sidney Parker. He wondered where James Stringer was. Somewhere in London?
You have much love to give and much to receive, Alexander.
Augusta was talking, and he had missed part of what she had said.
“Uncle, shall Mr. Triveton wrap both pair of earrings? You have not been listening to us. You have been lost in your thoughts.”
“Just remembering a few things from ten years ago. Like you arguing with your cousin. All the heartache and headaches you caused.”
Augusta rolled her eyes. “Mr. Triveton, do not listen to a word my uncle says. I was always on my best behavior.”
“I believe it, Mrs. Hargate.” Marcus Triveton wrapped the earrings for Alexander.
“I look forward to seeing you soon, Mr. Colbourne, and you will recall what I said to you over ten years ago. ‘Triveton’s will be here in this exact location the next time you are in London or whenever your niece is ready for a new pair of earrings.’”
“And my niece is just the beginning of a long line of daughters, Mr. Triveton. I think you and I will see each other very often in the coming years.”
“I look forward to our meetings, Mr. Colbourne.”
“As do I.” Alexander smiled and shook the jeweler’s hand. “As do I.”
___
24 March 1831
Heyrick Park, Sussex
“Leo, something soft, please, I would like George to fall asleep. He has been fussy all day.”
“Mozart?” Leo looked over from the spinet bench toward Charlotte who was sitting in the drawing room window seat holding her youngest child, while four-year-old Matthias quietly galloped his small wooden steeds around the cushion beside her dress skirt.
“Light Mozart not jolly Mozart.” Susan looked up from the table from where she was keeping the twins and Mary Diana occupied by helping them fold strips of paper to make roses, tulips, and daisies.
“Thank you for the clarification, Susan. I am going to play a minuet.” Leo rolled her eyes to the ceiling and adjusted the drop shoulder of her sky-blue dress. One would think Susan was the oldest of them all, not nine years younger than herself. “Where is Anne, by the way. Has she run off? Climbing trees?”
Lucienne giggled. “You are the only one of us who climbs trees, Leo!”
“What does clarification mean?” Her twin sister Lavinia asked.
“It means to explain something so that you understand better,” Leo said while rifling through the sheet music. “And I do not l climb trees anymore. It is too difficult in these ridiculous sleeves. Mother, must I wear this? Can I not just wear my pinafore?”
“Quit fussing, Leo. You are as bad as your little brother. Just play please.” Charlotte stood up rocking George slowly. She smiled at Matthias who looked so much like his father, a dark curl falling over his expressive brown eyes as he concentrated on taking his toy horse over a small fence jump that Quinn had carved for him.
Charlotte exaggerated her hips in a side-to-side rocking motion as Leo began to play. She quietly hummed to the baby and made a circle around the table, crossed by the book cart, and slowly made her way to the foyer. “Where is your sister?” She cooed to George.
Turning right down the hall, she continued her walk toward the study door.
She heard the murmur of two voices. The familiar baritone and the higher-pitched ramblings of soon to be three-year old Anne.
“Hold the pencil like this. Curl your wrist and move your fingers this way. There you go. Elbow out. Try not to get my ink on your sleeve or you mother and Mrs. Wheatley will fuss at me.”
“Papa?”
“Let me see. That is a circle. Can you make a square. Four lines. Like this…one, two, one here, and four. Try again.”
“Smeary, Papa.”
“I know. Mine is smeary as well. It is not easy, but if you keep your wrist like so, you can do it.”
“Is Luna here? Want down, Papa.”
Charlotte smiled. She knew what was going on without seeing them. She had guessed Anne would be left-handed from the first few times she had reached for her rattle as a baby.
“It sounds like you have a helper with your correspondence.” Charlotte said softly as she took the one small step into the study.
Alexander looked up with a start. Charlotte had been so quiet; he had not heard her approach.
“Mrs. Colbourne, it is customary to knock.”
Charlotte peeped under the desk and smiled to see Anne with her head of dark curls and green hair bow curled up next to Luna, who had slowed down greatly over the past two years.
“I do beg your pardon, Mr. Colbourne. I was just trying to see that your son gets at least one hour of sleep today.”
“Fussy? Temperamental?”
“Very much so. Reminds me of his father.”
“When was I ever fussy or of bad temper?” Alexander smiled down at the letter before him.
“I can think of at least one occasion, possibly two, or five. Make that at least six times that I recall.”
“Is that Leo?” he mused, referring to the Mozart drifting from the drawing room.
“She should play at the Trafalgar House party this year. I know she does not like to play in public, but I think it would be good practice for her.’
“Perhaps like Augusta she will meet a young man in Sanditon, and we will not have to concern ourselves with London so much or at least not place so much stake in it, if that is why you would like her to practice more. “
“Little ears, Xander.” Charlotte reminded him.
“When has Luna ever repeated anything we have said in this study, Charlotte?” Alexander winked at her.
“I was not referring to Luna.” She smirked back at him.
“George, have you been telling tales?” Alexander whispered as he stood up and lightly touched his son’s blanket.
“Mr. Colbourne, if you wake that baby, Mrs. Colbourne will not be best pleased.” Mrs. Wheatley admonished him from the doorway.
“And that we do not want. Especially today of all days.”
Charlotte grinned at Mrs. Wheatley. “It is hard to believe that ten years have passed. So much has changed.”
“Changed for the better. Mrs. Colbourne, if he is asleep, I will take him, and Miss Anne, it is time for your tea. Come join your brothers and sisters.”
“Will Luna come?”
“Yes, if she will move from this room, yes. Come along.” Mrs. Wheatley reached for George trying not to wake the finally slumbering infant. Anne crawled out from under the desk, prodding Luna, who stretched and yawned, curling her long tongue.
Once Mrs. Wheatley left with Anne skipping beside her, Charlotte sighed, and looked at the shapes Anne and Alexander had been practicing on a scrap piece of paper along with the letters A and C. Scribbled lower on the paper were other letters. She saw an H, a B, an R, and a Q. It made no sense, but she figured Alexander had been showing her other parts of the alphabet.
“Tired?” he asked, pushing back his chair, inviting her to step around the desk.
“What do you think, Mr. Colbourne? Yes, very tired.”
He reached for her, and she gathered her voluminous skirts to fit between the chair and the edge of the desk.
“You wear much more clothing than you used to,” he kissed her neck.
“’Tis the fashion, Xander, and we must be fashionable.” She closed her eyes as his lips hovered over her shoulders.
“Definitely more skirt and sleeve fabric. I think the only improvement is that the necklines are wider and lower on the shoulders. Better access than ten years ago.”
“Access? Access to what?”
“I am not telling, Charlotte.” And rather than telling, he demonstrated by placing a lingering kiss and a gentle nip on her shoulder. “Speaking of ten years, I have an anniversary present for you.”
“You do? I wonder what it might be?”
“A little something that I picked up while in London.”
“Would this be on the day that you and Augusta went shopping?”
“Why yes.”
“I have a feeling that my gift was not the only item you purchased then.”
“You know me too well.”
“You spoil her.”
Alexander glanced at the top bookshelf in the cabinet behind them. A copy of The Midnight Bell was still tucked there somewhere along with the Irving, and one of the Scotts. “Perhaps it is to make up for the times when I was not there. When I wasn’t there for either of them.”
“That was over ten years ago, Xander. Augusta has more than enough earrings to make up for a lifetime of your being holed away in this study. Time that you should have spent in other rooms of this house.”
“Please, Charlotte, let me enjoy spoiling her a little. I am becoming old and grey, and time goes by too fast.”
“Old and grey? I barely see a strand. Or two. Or three.” She laughed and gently poked his rib with her elbow.
“Careful, or else I shall keep your gift.” He ran his left thumb over the sapphire on her ring finger.
“I should not joke. Here I am plump and soon I will be grey, and you will wonder why you ever married me.”
“Plump? I have never heard such a thing. And you are what you have always been and always will be: a peerless beauty. The only woman I have ever sought out as soon as I have entered a room.”
“Hmm…I like that. Thank you.” Charlotte looked up and gave him a soft kiss.
“I should like it if you wear my gift later this evening.” He lowered his head to whisper in her ear, “…and nothing else.”
Charlotte swallowed.
“Also, I have some questions I wish to ask you.”
“Oh?”
He clasped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Important questions to assess whether you are fit to raise my children for another ten years.”
“Fit to raise? In addition to carrying them for nine months and giving birth, I also have to raise them? Mr. Colbourne, I am not sure I recall that as part of the bargain.”
“Recall or not, it is part of your responsibility because I am not shouldering that burden alone.”
Charlotte let out an exaggerated sigh. “Very well, if you insist on asking me questions, please do.”
“Seven fifteens?”
“Beg your pardon?”
“What are seven fifteens?”
“One hundred and five.”
He kissed her.
“Capital of Argentina?”
“Buenos Aires.”
“Very good.” He kissed her slowly twice.
“Do you play a musical instrument?”
“Pianoforte. A little.”
“Pouvez-vous tenir une conversation en français?” He asked, kissing her again before she answered.
“Oui, monsieur, je parle bien le français.”
Charlotte pushed back a lock of his hair. “Well, Mr. Colbourne, am I fit to raise your children?”
Alexander kissed her neck. “I think we both know the answer to that, Charlotte Heywood Colbourne. You always have been and always will be. The position is yours for as long as you wish to keep it.”
She kissed him and rested her forehead against his. “Good, because I wish to keep it forever.”
The End